


Monster

by halfmetalbitch



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 1st person pov, Angst, Budding Relationship, Comfort/Angst, Experiment!Reader, F/M, Reader-Insert, mutant!reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 01:11:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6883006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfmetalbitch/pseuds/halfmetalbitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky will do whatever it takes to keep you from the fate HYDRA has planned for you, but it's you who gets hurt trying to protect him during a mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by 'There's A Ghost' by Fleurie.

_Lights pierce my eyes, like twin blades shattering my skull. Restraints hold my wrists and ankles, the flesh scrubbed raw from struggling. A mirror, mercurial and bright, my reflection framed within—hollow eyes, stringy hair, skin shining with sweat. And them behind it._

_They bring their needles, their serums, their experiments. The sting of injection. The fire in my veins, burning me from inside out._

_It’s coming. She’s coming—the girl who looks like me but isn’t. The monster._

I sit up in bed, gasping for breath. Sweat pools at the nape of my neck, dripping down my spine and cooling my burning skin. Electricity sizzles along my body, skating from palms to fingertips of my hands, held in front of me. It almost tickles.

Sighing, I shake my hands to rid myself of the magnetic field and rest my forehead in my palms, waiting for my thunderous heartbeat to calm. It’s second nature now—the force field comes out with every rush of adrenaline, but it’s unpredictable at best.

I hate that dream, the one I can never seem to get rid of. It haunts me. She haunts me—the girl I used to be…before I became this.

“Ms. (L/N),” Jarvis’ voice fills my room, a welcome distraction from my thoughts. “Mr. Stark would like to meet in the conference room in thirty minutes.”

Another mission, then.

“Thanks, Jarvis.”

Dragging myself out of the warmth of my bed, I throw on a holey T-shirt and some yoga pants—whatever was laying on the floor and didn’t reek of sweat and BO. I leave my dark room and shuffle down the hall. It’s early, peaceful—my favorite time to explore the Avengers tower. I watch as my reflection follows me in the glass along the empty hallway and silently wish it were this peaceful all the time.

The smell of coffee filters down the hallway from the kitchen. Some angel thought to make a pot, but no one’s there when I turn the corner. On my tiptoes, I stretch to reach a mug from the top of the cabinet—why must everyone here be so tall? Mug in hand, I pour my coffee and load it up with sugar. Gotta get some motivation somehow.

In the conference room, I’m (of course) the last to arrive. All of the Avengers (well, the ones not currently on a mission) turn to me, and the weight of their eyes—Clint, Steve, Natasha, Tony, and Bucky—makes me squirm.

“Nice of you to join us, Ms. (L/N),” Tony says, but his tone is light, and there’s no malice in his eyes.

I glance up at the clock—five til seven. I’m actually early. Figures I would be late for being early.

“Jarvis said seven,” I grumble with a shrug.

I take my place at the table, grasping the coffee mug with both hands and letting it warm my icy fingers.

“You look like shit,” Clint mumbles to me, giving me a quick onceover.

“That’s because I’m the shit,” I tell him quietly before pointing at Tony. “Now pay attention before you get us in trouble with the teacher.”

He gives me one last look, then hones in on Tony’s speech. A map fills the screen, complete with pictures of our perps. Hydra, up to its old shit. Fucking up people’s lives, as usual.

The memories I can’t seem to shake filter back into my head. Trapped at Hydra headquarters, a victim to their cruel experiments. The bright lights, the drugged stupor, and all the needles…

I squeeze my eyes shut. They tried to make me into something extraordinary, a super soldier like Steve. I’m a half-baked hero at best. A failed experiment.

The warmth of eyes on me makes my skin tingle, and I glance across the table. Bucky. His dusky blue gaze envelopes me, holding me like cement. It’s like he knows, like he can see everything. I hate how perceptive he is, always so quiet and watchful.

“Oh, F/N!” Tony calls, waving to get your attention.

“Yeah?” My gaze sweeps back to the screen and the man standing in front of it.

“Welcome back to planet Earth! You could at least pretend you’re paying attention.”

“I’ll get better at faking it,” I tell him with an apologetic smile.

“Like I was saying, we’re sending in the package”—he gestures to me pointedly—“and agents Romanov and Barnes will be running back up. B Team stays in the wings until further notice.”

I cringe. “Okay, but can we not refer to me as ‘the package’? It just makes me sound like some dude’s junk.”

“So that’s why you’re such a dick,” Clint comments, earning a snort from Nat.

I shove him. “Har, har. Very funny.”

“Children, please.” Tony runs a hand through his gelled hair, exasperated. “(F/N) is our package because she’s the only one who can get in and out untouched. We need to grab the target as quickly, with as little recon, as possible. Please, people. We can’t take another hit like Sokovia.”

We all nod, each agent sporting their own grim expression.

My stomach morphs into a tight ball of nerves, resting heavy as a boulder in my gut. There’s a lot riding on this mission. There’s a lot riding on me and my ability to control this power.

The words press against my lips, begging to come out. Tony, I can’t do this. Tony, please don’t rely on me. Tony, you shouldn’t trust me.

I take a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. “I can do it.”

Tony gives a winning smile. “Knew you had it in ya.”

***

The punching bag meets my fists, and the flesh on my knuckles stings as it splits. I don’t mind the pain—I like it, really. It distracts me.

Gray light of very early morning ekes through the gym skylight, reminding me of how much sleep I didn’t get. It always gets worse before missions, the nightmares.

The click of the gym door closing behind me catches my attention, and I turn to see who’s interrupting my private time. Bucky’s long, dark hair shines in the dim light, his metal arm catching the light and reflecting it. His clothes fit him well—too well—his shirt stretched tight over his wide shoulders and swollen chest.

Even in the shadows, I can feel his eyes on me.

Ignoring him, I turn back to the swaying bag in front of me, landing a kick.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, his deep voice shattering the thick silence.

There’s a clank as he sets a couple of one-hundred pound weights on one side of a bench press bar, then moves to do the same on the other side. Show off.

“What are you talking about? I’m pretty obviously asleep right now,” I quip, mercilessly handing the punching bag’s ass to itself. The chain it’s attached to creaks in protest.

He snorts in response. “You’re one hell of a sleep walker.”

With the ease of a normal human being picking up a handful of kittens, Bucky proceeds to bench press four-hundred pounds. The muscles in his arms strain and tighten, pressing against the tight material of his shirt. I roll my eyes, looking away.

“You have nightmares, too?” I ask, trying my best to sound flippant.

Hydra did things to him, too. Bucky’s killed people—innocent people—under their control. Does he remember? Does he care? Does he dream of each and every face, staring up at him in horror?

Is he haunted, same as me?

“I think we all have nightmares, kid,” he says, voice strained as he lowers the bar.

“Don’t…call…me…kid.” I punctuate each word with a punch to the bag, but on the last, the creaky chain finally snaps and sends it flying.

It slides across the concrete floor, sand spewing everywhere.

I glance over at him sheepishly. “Oops.”

He chuckles under his breath, and the sound warms me, makes me feel like I’m being dipped in honey. “All right, I won’t call you kid…kid.”

I glare at him before stretching out, bending over and probably giving him a nice view. I’m not a kid, and he should know it. Kids don’t have bodies like this. “Since you made me break my partner, you owe me a new one.”

The bar clangs heavily against the machine as he lets it rest there. He sits up, barely even a film of sweat gracing his skin. “Doll, you sure you want what you’re asking for?”

Something about his tone pulls a string in my lower belly, makes my breath and heartbeat quicken.

I shrug and turn to walk out, calling to him over my shoulder. “If you’re scared I’ll embarrass you—“

His punch lands on my left side, right above my kidney. He’s fast, but I’m faster. Electricity sparks, my power coming into full effect, the force field completely deflecting his blow. Bucky stumbles, landing on his back on the cushy sparring mat. Electricity crackles around me in an impenetrable arc, slowly dissipating.

He stares up at me, eyebrows raised. “Damn, that does pack quite a wallop.”

I grin, offering a hand to him.

“What can I say? Hydra is good at making monsters.” Bucky cringes, almost imperceptibly, as if I struck him, and too late I realize my mistake. The same people who made me, made him. “Fuck, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant, Bucky.”

He grasps my still offered hand and flips me. I land against the mat with a cry and a cough, the wind knocked out of me. My force field turns on, too late, and I shock him, but he grits his teeth and presses his body even harder against mine. Every line of muscle bares down on me.

Shocked—literally—I momentarily have the upper hand and wrestle my way on top of him. Arms free, I land a punch straight to his throat. It doesn’t seem to phase him, and I find myself underneath him again, his weight baring down on me.

I free my arms, fighting against him, only for him to grasp my wrists with his metal hand and pin them above my head. My force field fizzles then dies. His hips grind into my own, and I gasp. I hope he thinks it’s from pain or defeat and nothing else—certainly not pleasure. 

“That was a low blow, Barnes,” I grind out, my voice too husky for my own comfort, and I hope he doesn’t notice.

“All’s fair in love and war.” I expect him to let me up, but he doesn’t. He just continues looking down at me, and I can’t help but glance down at his full lips so close to my own. “What’s going on, kid?”

I squirm against him, fighting his metal grip, but he’s bigger and stronger, and my electrical field is my first line of defense. Fighting on the ground isn’t really my expertise… Finally, he lets me up, and I scramble back a few paces.

“What do you mean?” I play dumb, pulling my knees up to my chest as I sit beside him on the mat.

He gives me a scathing look that tells me he sees straight through my bullshit.

The words fall out. “I can’t stop seeing it, what they did to me. I wake up and it haunts me. I close my eyes, and I dream it.”

His blue eyes bore into me. They feel too heavy, too full of a truth I don’t want to see—that I’ll never be rid of those memories. That I’ll wake up every day full of the terrors they put in me. That I’ll always be a ghost of the woman I once was. I look away, turning toward anything but him.

“You’re more than what they did to you.”

My eyes meet his again, and there’s something so honest, so raw, in his gaze. My very existence has been reduced to these powers I didn’t ask for—to how useful I am. And if I’m not useful, I’m a danger. I’ll never have a normal life. It’s either this or humanoid-freak-with-powers jail.

“Do you really believe that?” I ask.

His lips press into a thin line. “You think I’m a monster?”

I should. By all rights, I should think Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, is a monster. What he’s done… But when I look in his eyes, I see something more. I see his heart, pulverized to dusty shit, but somehow still there.

His brows furrow, face crumpling at the amount of time it takes me to answer.

“No, Bucky, I don’t,” I answer honestly.

He nods slightly. “You think you’re a monster?”

I’m silent, and he grunts thoughtfully. I’ve done my fair share of killing and maiming, too.

“If I’m not a monster,” I say finally, “then what am I?”

A smirk appears on his face. “And here I just thought you were beautiful.”

Stunned, my jaw falls slack. Did Bucky just call me beautiful? I don’t know what to say, but it doesn’t seem to matter, as he doesn’t wait around for a response. He gets up and leaves the gym, and I’m left alone with my thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos! :)

The jet rumbles along, and the vibrations thrum against the back of my head. Everyone’s a little quiet, a little on edge, but none more so than me. My brain is full of what ifs, scenarios of death and destruction—mine and my teammates’.

I look away from my shaking hands, glancing at the people around me—at Clint and Nat chatting a few feet away, at Cap with the serious look on his face, and Bucky sitting beside him. There’s no place for fear or nerves here. I can guarantee none of these trained assassins feel either of those things. So why do I?

Bucky’s gaze slips over to me. We haven’t spoken since this morning. And here I just thought you were beautiful. My cheeks heat, coloring with blood. Electricity fizzles along my fingertips, and I clench my fists to ward it off, hoping he hasn’t seen it.  
That classic smirk twists his full mouth, and I’d like to burn it off of his smug little face. He winks at me, and I fix him with my fiercest scowl. Cap sees his look and follows it all the way over to me.

“Don’t antagonize the package,” Cap says, smiling fondly.

“I ain’t antagonizin’ no one, punk,” he says, lighthearted.

“She already looks like a basket full of cats someone poured water on.” Cap grins.

A bolt of electricity arcs across the cabin, landing harmlessly between the two soldiers. They jump at the impact.

I glare at them. “I can hear you.”

Natasha puts her head in her hands, the bolt having caught her and Clint’s attention. “This is going to be a disaster.”

I hope she’s wrong.

***

I’m blending in. I’m a totally normal human. Nothing to see here. Move along, fellow humans.

Doctors in lab jackets rush through the halls, and a few soldiers stand guard outside of some off-limits areas. Hair pulled back, lab jacket on, and fake lab ID hooked to my belt, this mission has been entirely too boring so far. What was I nervous for?

“This is going smoothly…too smoothly,” Natasha’s voice buzzes in my ear.

“Or maybe I’m just really good at blending in,” I mumble into the comm.

“No offense, but I don’t think so,” she says. “It’s like they’re doing everything they can not to look at you.”

I glance around as inconspicuously as possible. Every eye slides off of me. Maybe she’s onto something…

But it doesn’t matter. This mission is almost over—I’ve nearly reached our target. I sidestep into a small hallway, pulling my ID badge on its lanyard and pressing it to the card reader beside a fortified door. The light on the card reader flashes green, and I push open the door. In and out, just like Tony wanted.

“The package is in,” I tell them. “Also, that’s what she said.”  
“Keep it together,” Cap comments wryly.

“Aye, aye, Captain,” I mumble.

The tenth floor lab C is pitch black. I grasp the door behind me, shutting it as quietly as possible. One by one, the overhead lights flicker on, illuminating the tables full of beakers and experiments.

But that’s all that’s in here. No people. And no target. No vials of highly toxic and dangerous serum in an aluminum case.

“There’s nothing here.” I don’t bother to whisper anymore.

“What?” Cap asks.

“There’s nothing here,” I repeat with more force. I take a step backwards, pressing against the door, but it doesn’t budge. “And the door locked behind me.”

“It’s a trap.” Bucky’s voice comes through the radio for the first time, nothing but a deep, sharp growl in my ear.

Across the room, a door creaks open. Panic rises in my throat, bitter and acrid as smoke filling my lungs. I remove my gun from its hiding spot, pointing it toward the person stepping through the threshold.

“Shit, wrecking ball’s coming in for the package. Hydra converging on all sides,” Nat says. “Hold on, (F/N).”

Their voices fade into background noise. I have bigger problems now.

A man steps into the room. With a gulp, I realize how familiar he looks. His face haunts my dreams. He’s watched me from behind mirrors and filled me with needles. He’s the man who killed the girl I was and made me into what I am now.

“(F/N).” His tone is pleasant, and he pushes his glasses further up his nose. He plays the role of harmless brainiac too well. I know first hand how harmless he isn’t. “You’re looking well.”

“What the fuck do you want?” I’m in no mood to swap pleasantries with my own personal demon.

“I’ve been watching you.” His smarmy grin makes me shudder as he paces through the abandoned lab space, slowly gaining on me. “I think it’s time we activate you.”

Gunshots ring out in my ear, followed by Cap’s barked orders. Please hurry, I urge in my head.

“Activate me?” I repeat, hoping one of my teammates will clear up my confusion.

“Oh, shit,” Clint says. “They’re going to Winter Soldier her.”

Winter Soldier me? As in…I’ve been brainwashed and all it takes are a couple of buzz words to make me remorselessly murder all my friends in cold blood? ‘Oh, shit’ is right.

“I ain’t gonna let that happen, doll,” Bucky says.

“Bucky,” Steve barks, “ETA?”

“I can see you shaking from over here,” the Doctor says, taking a step closer and distracting me from the voices in my ear.

And, dammit, he’s right. The gun quivers in my grip. I grasp it harder, until my knuckles turn white. He takes a few more steps.

“Stop right there,” I command.

“I imagine all your little friends have caught on by now.” My captor laughs. “Probably running around like ants outside. It doesn’t matter. They’ll never get here in time.”

I can’t let this happen. I refuse to be Hydra’s pawn, subject to their whims, killing who they want. They’ve given me more than enough nightmares for one lifetime.

“Yes, they will.”

I squeeze the trigger under my finger. Once, twice, three times, aiming for his head and chest. The bullets are perfectly aimed, but a force field stops them—a waterfall of electricity too similar to my own. It deflects the bullets, and they clatter to the floor.

“The serum…you used it on yourself?” I accuse, lowering my weapon.

His harmless smile morphs into an evil mask. I can’t hurt him. My serum may have been faulty, and my force field unpredictable, but I’ve no doubt they perfected those issues if it was administered to the Doctor.

What the hell am I going to do now?

“Seven.”

I freeze in place. There’s no time to come up with a plan. “No!”

“Flower.”

Something stirs inside me. My force field crackles and pops in my apprehension. I rush him, gun blazing and fists ready after I empty my clip, but when I hit his force field, it blows me back into the wall.

My head cracks against the concrete, and I cry out in pain. I slide down the wall, crumpling.

“Orb.”

A ringing starts in my head, splitting my skull in half. “Stop!” I cry, squeezing my hands over my ears.

“Blue.”

“Please…” I beg. This can’t be happening. If he makes me kill them—the people who saved me, the people who’ve saved so many more than just me—I won’t be able to live with myself.

I barely make out the screech of metal pounding against metal. Someone’s beating the locked door down. It caves a bit, the mold of a fist misshaping it.

“Listen to my voice, kid.” It’s Bucky’s words that breaks through the ringing in my ears. “Focus on me. You’re gonna be swell.”

I want to believe him. I want to be swell. Swell is the last thing I feel right now.

My only answer is a strangled groan; the pounding in my head won’t allow me to form words.

There’s a shriek of metal tearing, and then a scuffle in the room. The zapping of electricity, then nothing. The pounding in my head subsides to a dull ache, like the morning after drinking too much. 

Hands grasp my upper arms, tugging on them. I lash out, throwing punches as my force field flickers on and off—spent.

“You’re not a monster, (F/N). Don’t let him make you into one.”

I look up. Bucky’s blue eyes meet mine, full of concern and wariness. I breathe a deep sigh of relief, a sob escaping as I grasp his upper arms. Glancing around, the Doctor is nowhere to be found.

“We don’t have much time,” he says, noticing my intent. “We have to get out of here.”

I nod. He lifts me from the ground, strong arms around me. I push away from him when moves to carry me.

“I can walk,” I tell him, to which he quirks an eyebrow.

“If you insist.”

I do insist, but almost regret it if it would mean being surrounded by all his muscles…

We fight our way out of the hospital, my force field flickering on and off, sometimes protecting me and sometimes not.

Outside, Nat and Clint are taking care of the stragglers.

“Glad to see you two decided to join us,” Nat comments while cracking a Hydra agent’s neck as we jog through the rubble and burning vehicles.

“You guys sure do know how to make a mess,” I tease back.

Clint says something, but my attention is redirected to a glint at the top of the hospital to my right. I glance that way to see a figure standing there…gun in hand…

I turn back to the others. There’s a red dot hovering on Bucky’s back.

My heart leaps into my throat, and I panic.

“Sniper!” I cry, leaping the several paces between us and shielding him with my own body.

A thunderous gunshot fills the air, and everyone jumps into action. With a buzz, my force field flickers off and on in succession. A force drives me back, and there’s a strange pressure in my midsection. 

The ground is hard on my back as I land half on the rubble and half in Bucky’s arms. Clint’s arrow flies through the air and hits its target on the hospital roof, followed by an explosion that no doubt finished the sniper off.

“Oh, shit,” Clint mumbles, taking in the scene.

Bucky stares down at me in shock, wide eyed. Confusion wars with anger, crumpling his perfect features.

Footsteps approach. “What ha—“ Cap comes into view, placing his shield on his back. “(F/N)…”

“Dammit!” Bucky curses.

He presses a hand to my gunshot wound, staving off the blood as it puddles beneath me. I hiss at the pain.

“I forgot what pain feels like.” I’ve had my force field to protect me for so long. “10/10 would not recommend.”

My attempt at humor falls flat, burned away by the fury in Bucky’s face.

“Why did you do that?” he yells.

I stare up at him, now dizzy and lightheaded. I take in the worry and fear in his eyes, the angry set of his jaw covered in dark scruff, his body cradling mine as I no doubt soak his clothing in my life blood. The way he looked at me in the gym… I wish I had a chance to… I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t matter.

I lift a hand, laying it against his cheek, feeling the roughness there. My thumb leaves a streak of redness across his skin, but he turns his head toward my palm anyway.

“I’m not the monster they want me to be.”

I’m so tired. Maybe I’ll close my eyes, just for a second.

My name on his lips is the last thing I hear.


End file.
